Adios 2019
A Long December. And there’s reason to believe maybe this year will be better than the last.
A long year has 2019 been.
If I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with you personally, Rachel and I were divorced in 2019. We were — and are — great parents devoted to an amazing young boy… but we were not great partners, nor the other bits necessary to endure marriage and last decades like my parents and my mother’s parents.
We fought for it, especially for Grey’s sake, but realized it was better for him to grow up in two loving environments than in one space where his parents are not in love with one another.
As the clock ticks toward midnight on the most challenging year of my life, I want to put an epitaph on 2019. Losing a marriage and losing two jobs is not recommended, but lessons I learned at Camp Manitou and the support of family and friends helped me walk on.
When I was young my mother and grandmother told me that I should be nice to my sister because she was my best friend and the only sister I would ever have. I knew the latter, but I dismissed the former. I am so glad that she didn’t dismiss it — or me — because without her love and support my 2019 might have gone wholly off the cliff. There are no words, even for this wordsmith, to express the appreciation or love I have for my sister Andi. She truly is my everything.
Every moment of sadness was dismissed by the boy who showers me with the most love I’ve ever experienced. My Grey Man, just two years old and so wonderful. It is my only job in life to take care of him yet he takes care of me commensurately. I never knew what unconditional love was until I met him for the first time. One highlight of my year was returning from a 19-day trip to South America, where at 9:30 pm he was brushing his teeth as I snuck in the front door … pressing iPhone play on “Jane Says” while hiding at the foot of the stairs. When Grey heard the opening chords he knew there was only one reason that song would be playing. Daddy was home. I will remember that moment forever.
Whatever time I have left on the earth is for Grey, to ensure he grows up to be a better man than I am, and to “help people.” He's the fucking best.
My relationship with my parents has changed, and only for the better. I am only sorry the hurt that the divorce has caused for them and the sleepless nights that seem the norm. The affinity Grey has for them, and the preternatural bond he has for my dad, makes me so very happy. I loved my four grandparents very much, but I did not spend a lot of time with them. I am grateful to my parents for supporting and loving me unconditionally, but I am most grateful for the time they spend with the little man who adores them so much.
Multiple times I was implored to find Dublin a new home. Multiple times I resisted. I rescued her from a shelter on Grand Cayman Island, and she has rescued me from the ails of life. Such an affectionate dog, she’s grown so keen to be with Grey, who loves feeding her and letting her out and reading to her. He almost always wants her around, whether to pat her or look out the window with her or chase her in his police car. She breathes life into our home and when I’m missing my Grey Man, into me. As I sit here on New Year’s Eve, she is beside me.
I must thank Chuck Holliday for listening, for counseling and for enabling an amazing time in Jackson and an epic night in Nashville.
And I am so appreciative of the support of David Kern, Soorena Farboodmanesh, Matt Freedman and Daniela De Sousa. And everyone and anyone else who lent me a shoulder or gave me a kick or hugged or kissed me or asked how I was.
Without question the dissolution of a marriage sucks, and I am sorry to Rachel for my failures. I am not a perfect man nor was I a perfect husband, but I am glad that our son has a mother who loves him as much as she does.
One priority during the tribulations of the divorce process — and one of the residual positives — was reconnecting with family:
What the hell, Arsenal?! Could you have picked a different year to be terrible, or maybe picked this past year or this year to win the league?
The year 2019 was a year of many firsts with Grey, and we had so many road trips and adventures and lots and lots of ice cream. Perhaps what will stand out to me the most 10 years from now is taking him to training with me every Wednesday this fall. I was hesitant at first, but the way he fell in love with the entire Boston Latin School boys varsity soccer team -- and it with him -- was so incredibly beautiful.
And little was more personally beautiful than the time spent traveling in South America, pondering my past, present and future.
On my second night in Colombia I attended the Super Concierto at the Festival of Flowers. I was primarily interested in seeing Carlos Vives, Maluma and Ozuna — It was a seven-hour concert and I sort of didn’t care about Marc Anthony.
Until at 2:22 am he concluded his set with Vivir Mi Vida.
A song I had heard many times.
But in that moment listening to the words, watching the enormous band playing, and feeling the music coursing through my body this song was born as the anthem for the new chapter in my life.
“I’m gonna laugh, I’m gonna dance
“I’m gonna live my life.”
That’s why there’s reason to believe that 2020 will be better than 2019.
La vida es una.
A long year has 2019 been.
If I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with you personally, Rachel and I were divorced in 2019. We were — and are — great parents devoted to an amazing young boy… but we were not great partners, nor the other bits necessary to endure marriage and last decades like my parents and my mother’s parents.
We fought for it, especially for Grey’s sake, but realized it was better for him to grow up in two loving environments than in one space where his parents are not in love with one another.
As the clock ticks toward midnight on the most challenging year of my life, I want to put an epitaph on 2019. Losing a marriage and losing two jobs is not recommended, but lessons I learned at Camp Manitou and the support of family and friends helped me walk on.
When I was young my mother and grandmother told me that I should be nice to my sister because she was my best friend and the only sister I would ever have. I knew the latter, but I dismissed the former. I am so glad that she didn’t dismiss it — or me — because without her love and support my 2019 might have gone wholly off the cliff. There are no words, even for this wordsmith, to express the appreciation or love I have for my sister Andi. She truly is my everything.
Whatever time I have left on the earth is for Grey, to ensure he grows up to be a better man than I am, and to “help people.” He's the fucking best.
My relationship with my parents has changed, and only for the better. I am only sorry the hurt that the divorce has caused for them and the sleepless nights that seem the norm. The affinity Grey has for them, and the preternatural bond he has for my dad, makes me so very happy. I loved my four grandparents very much, but I did not spend a lot of time with them. I am grateful to my parents for supporting and loving me unconditionally, but I am most grateful for the time they spend with the little man who adores them so much.
Multiple times I was implored to find Dublin a new home. Multiple times I resisted. I rescued her from a shelter on Grand Cayman Island, and she has rescued me from the ails of life. Such an affectionate dog, she’s grown so keen to be with Grey, who loves feeding her and letting her out and reading to her. He almost always wants her around, whether to pat her or look out the window with her or chase her in his police car. She breathes life into our home and when I’m missing my Grey Man, into me. As I sit here on New Year’s Eve, she is beside me.I must thank Chuck Holliday for listening, for counseling and for enabling an amazing time in Jackson and an epic night in Nashville.
And I am so appreciative of the support of David Kern, Soorena Farboodmanesh, Matt Freedman and Daniela De Sousa. And everyone and anyone else who lent me a shoulder or gave me a kick or hugged or kissed me or asked how I was.
Without question the dissolution of a marriage sucks, and I am sorry to Rachel for my failures. I am not a perfect man nor was I a perfect husband, but I am glad that our son has a mother who loves him as much as she does.
One priority during the tribulations of the divorce process — and one of the residual positives — was reconnecting with family: - An overnight in April in New Haven with my Uncle Paul
- Memorial Day weekend in Rockland with Grey’s five new cousins, my two cousins and their spouses and my Aunt Kate and Uncle Mike, none of whom I had seen in years
- A summer visit to Gloucester to hang out with Uncle Mark and Aunt Diane
- My first-ever phone calls with my cousin Jeffrey
What the hell, Arsenal?! Could you have picked a different year to be terrible, or maybe picked this past year or this year to win the league?
And little was more personally beautiful than the time spent traveling in South America, pondering my past, present and future.
On my second night in Colombia I attended the Super Concierto at the Festival of Flowers. I was primarily interested in seeing Carlos Vives, Maluma and Ozuna — It was a seven-hour concert and I sort of didn’t care about Marc Anthony.
Until at 2:22 am he concluded his set with Vivir Mi Vida.
A song I had heard many times.
But in that moment listening to the words, watching the enormous band playing, and feeling the music coursing through my body this song was born as the anthem for the new chapter in my life.
Voy a reír, voy a bailar
vivir mi vida“I’m gonna laugh, I’m gonna dance
“I’m gonna live my life.”
That’s why there’s reason to believe that 2020 will be better than 2019.
La vida es una.
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